


The Sex Education of Arya Stark Part 2

by Marcus_S



Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Body Odour, Concepts of Beauty, Dildos, F/F, Masturbation, Puberty, Voyeurism, baths, casual sexual activity, mentions of violence including rape, sexual learning, sexually explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28426899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcus_S/pseuds/Marcus_S
Summary: The part where Arya learns to love herself
Relationships: Arya Stark/unnamed characters
Series: Arya Stark's Multiverse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779334
Kudos: 2





	The Sex Education of Arya Stark Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Arya Stark and the others all belong to GRR Martin, otherwise the story is © Marcus Stanson 2020

Arya was young but she was neither naive nor stupid, two things happened to a girl on the streets, if she was lucky she got raped, if she wasn’t she got raped and then murdered; so she had no intention of living on the streets. When she couldn’t get into the house of Black and White immediately she knew she needed a plan to find a bed for the night. She couldn’t recollect where she’d heard it said, probably while travelling with Yoren, Gendry, Hot Pie and Lommy, but ‘there’s always work for a girl in a brothel’ suggested a better option so she scouted around in the last remaining light of her first evening until she found the back yard to what, from the front, looked like an upper class establishment. It didn’t take long for someone to come out of the door and find a scruffy and undernourished looking little girl ‘hiding’ rather ineffectually in the corner of the yard. Of course she only wanted to sleep in the yard, she wasn’t asking for anything, but she ended up inside, being sent to empty a bunch of chamber pots, then get some water from the well down the street, then clean up where a couple of drunken clients had decorated a room with the contents of their stomachs. None of this was pleasant work, but it was preferable to the alternative and it mostly took place at night so it was possible if you didn’t want too many hours sleep to manage to complete the task she’d really come to Braavos to perform as well.

Somewhere along the way in the very first days, while bringing hot water up from the kitchen to the girl’s rooms it was suggested that Arya might have a body odour problem and that she should get undressed and make use of the water once those for whom it was intended had finished. Even back in Winterfell no one got a bath to themselves, hot water meant effort so Arya was used to being, at the very best, second one in after her sister and often also her mother. As she eased herself in the by now warm water she couldn’t help remembering her mother’s comment to Rickon “Until you learn not to pee in the bath, you go in last”; she hoped the girls were civilised enough not to pee in the bath. In the process she was examined in her nakedness by the girls in the room and pronounced ‘more than pretty enough’. This was something of a surprise to Arya who had always worked at not looking pretty, particularly when pretending to be a boy.

Of course she was in a brothel so the subject of ‘proper work’ was raised, but her total lack of breasts and virtually hairless slit meant that she was of little interest to any but ‘a certain sort of man’. Arya was keeping her ears open and the first mention that such a man had been found and she was going to be out of the building fast.

Initially she started sleeping in the kitchen, which had the advantage of being warm, but after a while one of other of the girls who had seen the last client to the door would take her up to her room and let her share her bed; usually with some admonition about ‘not squirming, farting or snoring’. Fortunately she appeared not to possess any of these habits. It was therefore almost inevitable that one night another girl’s hand slid down between her legs and a voice enquired in her ear “I’m not tired, shall we have a bit of fun before we go to sleep”.

Unsure whether she would agree with the girls definition of fun Arya’s initial reply was circumspect and ever so slightly disingenuous “What like play games”.

“Yes dear, we’ll start with a little game called polishing the pebble”.

“Oh, do I need to get us a cloth each”.

“No, you just need to lick your finger, but we’ll start with me polishing yours so you can see what fun it is. Then I’m; sure you’ll be happy to polish mine to say ‘Thank you’. You just lay still and open your legs a bit, there that’s fine”. The hand had moved away for a minute and came back with a wet middle finger that slid just a little further into Arya’s body than she’d ever gone while towelling herself dry. Nothing hurt, so Arya considered if she had to start learning about what went on ‘down there’ as Septa Mordane referred to the area, she might as well start now.

It took a while and just for a moment at one point she nearly lost her nerve and asked the girl to stop, but as if she could sense this was the critical moment a voice in her ear had said “There that’s getting exciting isn’t it” and she was right, excitement was the right description and shortly later it got very exciting and then there was a lovely relaxed feeling. The girl was a professional; she took Arya to her peak and then let her have enough time to relax before she moved on. So far proceedings had happened under the sheets, but the girl thought Arya would learn faster if she could see what she was doing so she threw back the bedding and spread herself, starshaped; “Your turn, don’t be shy because I’m not, lay down there and get a good look, then wet your finger and do to me exactly what I did to you”.

Arya thought of all the times she’d had to drop her pants in front of Sandor Clegane; no she wasn’t shy. She paused for a moment while she considered what she was feeling, satisfied and relaxed and yes just a bit curious, so she did as she was told. The girl was helpful when she didn’t find the aforementioned pebble immediately, it was hidden behind a little hood of flappy skin, but when she got there she just remembered the girls actions, little bursts of flicking, then a slower swirly movement, then some more flicking. At one point her finger needed a bit more spit, so instead of interrupting her stroking she licked the pebble a couple of times. A moan suggested that hadn’t been a bad move, she was remembering, she might have moaned and squealed a bit at the last moment so she picked up the pace and was rewarded by having her hand trapped as the girl squeezed her legs round it as she reached her peak of excitement.

Afterwards back under the bedding Arya admitted that, no she hadn’t done that before, and, yes she would rather like to do it again, although not tonight as the first one had been a bit more excitement than she’d expected. In truth, she hadn’t had any idea what to expect, no one had mentioned the idea of pleasure associated with her body, but it hadn’t hurt and she was quite sure she wanted a repeat performance fairly soon.

Maybe it was something particularly endearing about one who looked so young but was so enthusiastic amongst a group of rather cynical performers, or maybe it was a cynical process of preparing Arya to join the ‘real business of the house’ as soon as some hair managed to grow between her legs; but which ever, Arya found that within a month she had cycled round every girl’s bed, even the aged Madame and had progressed from polishing the pebble with her finger to a whole lexicon of euphemisms for a whole variety of ways for two girls, or occasionally more, to experience sexual pleasure. Throughout these diversions she was not diverted from her day job, as ‘Lanna’ or ‘Cat of the Canals’, blind or sighted, Arya found herself able to return to the brothel often enough. Increasingly her work there consisted more of acting as a plaything for the other girls and less as a real servant, but this hardly bothered her, ‘a girl’ might get hit regularly, but ‘our little tickler’ as she was named in the house was always just slightly petted and pampered. She did wonder one night if anyone was tickling the Waif’s fancy, or was that why she always seemed so nasty; her conclusion was that that was the waifs problem.

Among the things Arya learned was that we all look different, but it doesn’t affect the pleasure we can have or give. Arya never did get to see herself, mirrors were ridiculously expensive, but she saw enough other girls in their varied shapes and sizes to decide that whatever she looked like it was fine.

Another valuable lesson was that while every journey should end in a satisfactory arrival, it is the journey that is the fun. Arya had been a girl in a hurry for lot of her life, now she realised there were times when slowing down was a positive advantage. Men didn’t always seem to appreciate this, which was why the girls found it easier to fake it with them and then take their own pleasure amongst their own kind. As she was told one night “It’s not that you can’t enjoy a man it’s just a lot harder work with most of them”.

Sadly Arya also learned that not everyone was a nice person, which wasn’t exactly something she hadn't already realised, and that some people took pleasure in sexual nastiness. The business with Meryn Trant did cause some trouble. In a place where the principle was that enough gold permitted anything short of murder she had overstepped the boundary almost as much with the Madame as she had with the House of Black and White.

Eventually, however that hair started to appear and one of the girls approached Arya one night with something long, firm and she realised, from sneaking peaks through the curtains while a girl performed for her client, man shaped. She found it funny that her first thought on observing a complete male erection was that Sandor had always been discreet enough that she’d never seen his.

“Now you’re growing it’s time to move on from fingers”. Arya wasn’t sure she had grown that much, a single finger slid inside to rub that little raised bump and push the peak of pleasure even higher was one thing, this object, the size of the top of large root vegetable was another.

“Are you sure I’m big enough for that”.

The girl pulled her cat onto the bed; momentarily Arya wondered if the poor animal was to be included in the game. “A baby’s head is the same size as a cats, if you can get a baby’s head out you can get this in. Don’t worry we’ll take it gently”. This latter was well meant lie.

“Well alright then”, for second Arya thought of saying ‘give it me I’ll do it myself’, but something inside her told her she probably wouldn’t, so she let the girl get on with it. Everything was going fine, she was on the edge of her eruption, but as her legs clamped round the girls head the dildo went into her hard and fast. She screamed, but it was hard to scream when you were already gasping for breath for another reason. The girl wrapped her arms around her and held her close; Arya felt the dildo slide back out.

“There that’s that done, and if you ever find a man bigger than that you’ll be a very lucky girl” [She was; she did!].

Two things became obvious soon after this momentous night; firstly as her pubic bush became increasingly robust the Madame was sizing her up for her ‘first night’; secondly her relationship within the House of Black and White was becoming increasingly antagonistic. Sadly the culmination of these actions meant that the amount of time Arya had to learn the benefits of penetration alongside stimulation was limited and when she had to leave the brothel for the last time she did not have the opportunity to take a dildo with her. The thing she did take with her was the parting words of the first girl who had slipped her finger onto Arya’s pebble “It doesn’t matter whether you’re a raddled whore, a beaten wife, penniless, starving, unloved by anyone else, now you’ll always be able to bring some pleasure into your life”.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, even criticism, are always preferred to silence.


End file.
